


Unravel

by subverted



Series: shiro, keith & adam [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aftermath, Angst, Best Friends, Break Up, Friendship, Galaxy Garrison, Gen, Kerberos Mission, Loss, M/M, Pre-Kerberos Mission, Sad Ending, Season 7 Spoilers, Team Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-06-16 07:32:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15432087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/subverted/pseuds/subverted
Summary: Adam and Shiro go their separate ways. In the wake of the Kerberos mission, three young men are left to deal with their hurt in the only ways they know how.Special guest appearance by the Holt family.Keith's throat feels tight. He can't believe what he's hearing. No, no, Shiro would never do that, he just... "Heneedsyou."But maybe he's not really talking about Adam. Maybe what he sees is himself.





	Unravel

 

_ i. keith _

  


Keith's footsteps ring heavy against the corridors of the Garrison's officers' quarters. The orange of his uniform is a vivid contrast against the grey all around him, emphasizing the fact that in all technicality, he really shouldn't be here. It goes against all Garrison conventions. But Keith never was one for following those kind of constructs, and by now, everyone is so used to seeing him here that they don't spare the lone, outranked cadet even a single glance.

He reaches a door at the end of the hallway and swallows, hesitating. Coming here was an impulse that he couldn't seem to shake, but now that he's actually here, he's wondering if maybe this is a bad idea. If maybe he's getting too involved. Then he remembers Shiro's face as he hunches down over his tools, that deep-set frown of resignation saying that he has to lose something no matter what.

Keith... has never been good with people. He's not always good at reading the things he should. But he _knows_ that look and what it means, because he's worn it a thousand times himself. Keith always loses, he never gains--until Shiro. Shiro gave him another chance, and he knows in the deepest part of his being, that he deserves a chance just as much. He _has_ to do this for him.

"Well... Here goes nothing."

He knocks quietly, and the face waiting for him almost makes him want to leave. _Adam._ If Shiro is the Garrison's most technically gifted pilot, Adam may be one it's most innovative. He's cool, smart, creative, kind. The very picture of everything Shiro deserves. Keith doesn't speak to him much, he never has, but the look in Shiro's eyes whenever they're together has more than earned his respect. No matter how heavy or high his walls are, he could never quite hate someone who means that much to Shiro.

"Hey, Keith." Something in Adam's tone sounds different, but Keith can't explain why he thinks that. Something just tells him that it is. "Takashi isn't in right now."

"I..." He almost loses his nerve, but fights the nervousness back down. "I actually came to talk to you."

"Alright. Take a seat." For all that they never talk, Adam doesn't sound even the least bit surprised as he invites Keith into their shared living space. He settles in at the counter, and Keith situates himself on the couch, gripping the knees of his uniform as heavy silence settles over them. He must be waiting for him to take the lead, but he's not even sure where to start.

"Shiro told me what happened." Maybe there, at the the basics.

Adam doesn't even flinch. If anything, he just looks tired. "And you're here to call me a monster."

"What?" Keith's head snaps up instantly. "No, that's not what I--" Adam isn't a monster; nobody that Shiro loves so much ever could be. Of that much, Keith is convinced. But it's a struggle, to figure out how to redirect this after he just... says that. He tries anyway. "Are you really not going to the launch?"

"I'm not." There's a pained look on his face, but he manages to smooth it over. "Keith, I appreciate what you're trying to do, but he and I have had this argument a thousand times. I'm not having it again."

"But--"

Adam cuts him off. "You're young. I know how this must look to you, but it's not that simple. You have _no idea_ what it's like."

That gets a rise out of him, something hot building in chest, and Keith rises to his feet. "Don't give me that! Don't blow me off like I'm some little kid! This is _Shiro_ we're talking about. He would _never_ give up on me. On... Either of us. _Please_ don't give up on him!"

"On either of us?" Adam's brows furrow, and he turns his head away, like he's trying to swallow down something regrettable. His next words cut like ice. "He's already given up on me."

Keith's throat feels tight. He can't believe what he's hearing. No, no, Shiro would never do that, he just... "He _needs_ you."

But maybe he's not really talking about Adam. Maybe what he sees is himself, and some desperate need to know that there's one person in the universe who won't let people push him away. Who isn't going to walk out on anyone. And maybe... He needs to know that this person who devotes his life to supporting people is getting that in return from someone. Because that's what he deserves, more than anything else.

There's a long silence, and Adam pulls himself to his feet. He looks Keith directly in the eyes, and there's so much raw pain and regret there that he feels his heart seize in his chest.

"You know what, Keith? Maybe you're just stronger than I am." He grabs his bag, and starts heading toward the door. "I need to go. Hang out if you want."

The door shuts behind him, and Keith is left alone, gaping. Maybe Adam was right... He doesn't understand. Any of this. But that parting remark seems to hit the very core of his being.

_Maybe you're stronger than I am._

What does he mean by that...?

  


_ ii. shiro _

  


There's a small sendoff party for the members of the Kerberos mission and anyone close to them. It should be family, technically, but Shiro's have been on the other side of the world since he joined the Garrison at fifteen, and it almost feels like he's been a working adult his entire life. Keith might just be the closest thing to family he really has now. Iverson and the principal of the service academy have never made any secret of their disdain for him, but somehow, Shiro manages to get permission for him to come.

Maybe it's pity. Iverson had just one critical remark for him, that day: "I really hope you know what you're doing, son."

Shiro isn't sure how he feels about it. Sometimes, he and Iverson see surprisingly eye-to-eye. Sometimes, even he kind of hates that man.

The party isn't really a party as much as a private gathering, where they can get the run of the launch site without interference from other officers or the media. A nice quiet space to say goodbye. Sam and Matt have brought the rest of their family and even their dog, busy laughing and taking commemorative photos. Shiro may have joined them in another situation, but instead, he and Keith stick close together, remaining solitary. He wonders if maybe they're both a little jealous of how happy that family looks together, but he knows he can't speak for Keith.

It's not like it's an unhappy situation. The excitement building deep inside him is very real, and the grin on his face as he and Keith joke and talk about the mission is very much the genuine article. But there's a small pit in his stomach, too. Part of it's fear, of knowing how much Keith still relies on him. Another part is that bitter little whisper telling him that this isn't how he ever pictured this day. Even as far back as flight school, he could always envision someone else here by his side, and the absence of it is... He doesn't know. Surprisingly, _painful_ isn't the word he would go for. Disappointing, maybe.

Eventually, he and Keith sit, enjoying the pleasant breeze stirring through the desert. There's laughter in the distance, and Keith's brows are furrowing, caught somewhere between admiration and dismay.

"Did she just hit him?"

Shiro follows his gaze to see Matt Holt crumpled on the ground, looking up at his little sister in slight amazement, and laughs. Yeah, he's never going to let him hear the end of that one. But the air between them quickly goes quiet; they can only pretend this is a normal day for so long.

"Keith." Shiro's voice is soft. He feels like he can guess what's on his mind. "You're going to be okay."

"I know. So are you." No hesitation. "But..."

A smile tugs at the corners of Shiro's lips. He knows what he's worried about. What others tend to see in Keith is that he's impulsive, a bit of a hothead, but he sees something else. He sees passion and instinct, and he respects him for it. But what he sees more than that is how hard he's been working to learn how to utilize them in the right way, and maybe that's why he's not as concerned as he could be.

"You've got this, Keith. Just work hard, keep your head down, and I'll be back before you know it." Easy. Keith struggles with discipline sometimes, but Shiro knows better than anyone else how hard he's been trying. He _knows_ he can do this.

Keith is quiet for a minute, but looks back up to him with a warmness that he only ever shows to Shiro. "Yeah, okay. I'll be waiting for you."

There's a jolt through Shiro's stomach, and he can only stare in a stunned silence. There's nothing unusual about what Keith said. Nothing he should be any amount of surprised over. And yet...

They don't come from where he expected, but it looks like he got hear the words he was longing for after all.

\---

The launch goes off without a hitch. Technically, they're all supposed to sleep in shifts, each taking turns at the helm, unless there's a particularly complicated flight terrain--that's always Shiro. Sam can do anything that doesn't require absolute precision, and Matt's admittedly a terrible pilot, but makes up for it by being one of the best navigators the Garrison has ever seen. But for nearly 24 hours straight, none even bother taking turns. Shiro keeps flying, Matt stays glued to the navigational and communication systems, Sam's busy taking data that the mission doesn't even call for, but he just can't help himself.

Eventually, the excitement finally wears off some, and they get back to sleeping properly. Sometimes the silence seems to stretch on for miles, because there's only so much three men huddled together in a little tin can of a ship can really talk about without it starting to get cumbersome. But it's comfortable, always comfortable, because the stars and the planets around them more than make up for anything they can't say.

It's nice, until Sam asks him a question he isn't sure he's prepared for. "How are you holding up?"

He actually has to pause to think about that, and ends up shaking his head. His honest answer? "... I don't know. I don't really think it's hit yet."

Matt glances between the two men, seeing something solemn that wasn't there before. "Did... something happen?"

Shiro closes his eyes. To be honest, he debates not answering, because it doesn't seem relevant, but Matt is a good guy, and they're still going to be stuck together for months. He doesn't deserve to be brushed off like that.

"Adam and I are... separated." He's not sure what makes him phrase it like that. Maybe _we broke up_ feels almost juvenile compared to what their relationship really was.

Matt's eyes go wide. "What? Is that why he wasn't at the launch? What happened?"

"Matthew--" Sam shoots his son a pointed look and he immediately starts apologizing, but Shiro just shakes his head. He gets the reaction, and it's why he only ever told Sam and Keith. He's spent the last several years of his life hearing about about how _perfect_ he and Adam were together, how it was like they were meant to be together, and it turns out, they weren't.

"We've been drifting apart for a long time," he admits quietly. Normally, he wouldn't, but these guys are his crew. Matt's got a rare kindness and openness to him, and Sam might just be the wisest man he's ever met. He leads by trust, and Shiro's always taken his example to heart. "He thought I work too hard, wanted me to settle down and stop flying. I... can't."

There's a hand on his shoulder, gripping softly as Sam smiles at him. "You did the right thing, Shiro. Love isn't about giving in to one future, it's about building one together. If you can't walk the same road, the best thing you can do is let go and give each other the space to find someone who can."

Logically, he knows Sam is right. In his heart, he feels... selfish, somehow, for not giving up on himself, even in spite of how little sense that makes.

"Hey." Matt's voice is a little quiet, but he looks up, hopefully. "... Wanna see how many genetically engineered peas I can stick in my mouth?"

"I don't think that's--" _appropriate,_ Shiro was going to say, a little frustrated by how jarringly against the moment it is. But Matt's got the most innocent look on his face, like he's hoping against hope it'll cut through, and the next thing he knows, all three of them are laughing. It's not very funny, but somehow, they feel like they need that moment.

The rest of the way to Kerberos is bittersweet. It's literally the happiest time of Shiro's life, and nothing can replace the excitement and joy of knowing that they're literally making history, but deep down, there's a hole there. Some empty little space that no amount of happiness can seem to fill in. But _devastation_ never does really set in, and part of him hates himself for it.

Then he remembers he has people supporting him. Matt, and Sam, and Keith, all having his back. All not letting him be defined by an illness.

He cries that night. He wonders when friendship started feeling so overwhelming, and realizes he may he have lost something a lot earlier than he thought.

  


_ iii. adam _

  


The next several months are hell. Adam tries as hard as he can to be together, an image of control, but he's starting to lose focus, and it's starting to show in his work. In his most private moments, it's like he can't breathe, like some very essential part has been cut out of him and he's been left holding the pieces. Then he wonders if he really has any right to feel like like he's lost when he's pushed what he wanted most out of his life on his own.

Despite the threat he'd made to Takashi, he can't bring himself to move out of their quarters. He passes by all those awards, by that little picture of them together every day, and every time he does, his stomach twists. Eventually, he has to turn it around. But it's not _just_ the picture, it's every inch of their living space. No matter where his eyes turn, there's some kind of memory of them being together. The way Takashi held him on the couch when they'd watch movies. The way Adam would have to rub circles into his boyfriend's back when he'd pushed himself too hard. The way they'd kiss each other goodbye every morning. The way they'd curl up into each other's arms and talk about their day every night. Make meals together, drink coffee together. Joke together. Be there for each other.

When did it all start feeling so wrong?

The only thing Takashi ever loved more than flying was helping was people. It was one of the things that he loved about him. And if there was one thing that Adam ever wanted to be, it was a refuge. A support to this man he was giving so much of himself to others. In the beginning, maybe that's what he had been, but the missions started getting longer. Takashi started working harder. Adam tried, with everything he had, to get him to rest. To take care of him.

The problem was, Takashi didn't want to be taken care of. Or maybe just not the way that Adam was doing it.

_Please don't do this. I'm tired of watching you hurt. One of these days, you're going to get yourself killed out there._

It never got through. Takashi would get angry, tell him not to protect him, like he was out prove something to himself, to the world. Adam always told himself he was afraid of seeing Takashi grind himself down to a point of no return. Maybe it was more than that. Maybe he was afraid of how much larger than life he'd become, how his ambitions seem to balloon even bigger with each and every personal accomplishment. At the absolute pride and joy he took in his work.

Maybe Adam felt like he wasn't good enough to keep up. And maybe he'd buried himself in worry and anger instead of admitting that. Maybe.... Maybe Takashi would actually be happier if he unchained him.

Time dredges by, and the pain begins to ease, bit by bit. His friends keep goading him into going out for drinks so he can have fun and see what else is out there, and at some point, Adam thinks he might be ready. He's about halfway through his second pint when the news suddenly switches to a different broadcast.

_Kerberos Mission missing. Pilot error._

It feels like cement fills his lungs.

"Takashi..."

He knows the headline doesn't feel right, not for a pilot as talented as Takashi was, but even so, it rings true with him. It was his muscles, wasn't it? He went and did the one thing Adam never wanted him to do, and now he's...

Gone.

Forever.

He lifts himself onto wobbling legs, too bewildered to even stand properly. He slams the entire contents of his wallet down for his tab, somehow not even caring, but the first place he ends up driving doesn't feel logical. Not by a long stretch.

There's a little shack out in the desert.

By all accounts, he shouldn't know it exists, let alone where it is, but he remembers Takashi talking about it, one sleepless night. About how he and Keith had been racing in the desert and they briefly visited his childhood home. He had a vague approximation of where it was just by listening to Takashi talk, but finding it is pure luck and nothing else.

He has no idea why he's here. He and Keith aren't close--they can barely even be called friends. The only commonality between them is their best friend, and maybe that's why he feels some strange sense of obligation. Takashi... cared for Keith a lot, to the point Adam feels like he knows this boy so much more intimately than he should, and he wonders if it's the same for Keith. But he knows how much Keith relied on him, how irreplaceable that really is, and with Matt and Sam gone, too? Keith might be the only person in the world left who might understand what it's like to lose someone _that_ great.

He knocks, guiltily, and the sight he sees breaks his heart. He sees himself--all the anger and the pain written clearly on Keith's face. There's a shift of surprise when he notices who his visitor is, but his voice goes cold.

"I don't want to see you, Adam."

He wonders if it's their talk from before. Maybe Keith thinks he abandoned him in his time of need. Maybe he somehow thinks this is all his fault. He certainly wouldn't be able to blame him if he did. "Keith--"

It turns out, that's not the case. "I _don't want_ to cry over him with you. He's not gone, he can't be, they messed up, they...!"

"Keith!" Every little word cuts deeper into his heart. How can he be this far in denial? How can he not see what's happening here? How can he not understand that Takashi is gone? "Keith, listen to me."

"No! Just get out! I can't even stand looking at you!" The door gets slammed in his face, and Adam thinks he gets it. He knows what's happening here. Keith... never wants to see him again, because he seeing him makes him see the face of the person he's lost. And he can only possibly know that because... he feels exactly the same way. He'll never be able to look at this person and not see the person his best friend was trying to mentor. The kid he took under his wing like he was his own little brother. There's never going to be a time where Adam sees Keith and isn't plagued with thoughts of Takashi.

He retreats woodenly back to his car, and for all the composure he'd tried to keep, he just... cracks. Every little hurt from the past several months all pouring out at once.

He's not sure how long he's there, but it's morning by the time he drives back to the Garrison. Numbly, he requests a day off, and sleeps. And the next day.

On the third, he tries, with every fiber of his being, to go to work, but he stops in his tracks when he hears some cadets whispering in the hall.

"Did you hear Keith got kicked out?"

"Oh man, what did he do?"

"Iverson said something about the Kerberos mission and Keith punched him so hard he got sent to the infirmary ward. I heard he might even lose the eye."

"Holy shit. I heard he was only here because he was like, you know, _with_ Shiro, and Adam found out and broke up with him."

"Geez, what the hell man, how'd he trick him into that? Shiro was _way_ better than that--"

Adam can't contain himself any longer. "Don't you _ever_ let me hear you speak about _either_ of them like that again."

There must be something in his voice. The cadets are so terrified they freeze into place, unable to muster so much as a _yes, sir._ Vindictively, he wants to press them into it. Make them _beg_ for him to forgive them, but he crams it down. This... This isn't him. This isn't what Takashi would want for him. He sighs, and pulls himself away, trying to steel himself better against the circulating rumors.

On the fourth day, he hands in his resignation. There's nothing for him at the Garrison anymore.

On the seventh day, he attends the state funeral for Takashi, Sam, and Matt. Colleen Holt is a wreck, while her daughter is screaming that they're still out there somewhere. He doesn't have the heart to tell her the truth about Takashi.

Keith isn't there, and that's fine with Adam. He doesn't know if he could handle that. He doesn't know if he ever wants to see anything that reminds him of him ever again.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Bonus soundtrack:
> 
> Keith: Fallout Boy - The Last of the Real Ones  
> Shiro: Snow Patrol - The Lightning Strike  
> Adam: Starsailor - Way to Fall


End file.
